


August Angst in 31 Drabbles

by Weddersins



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: A whole mess of angst, Angst, August Angst, Augustangst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, angst angst angst, really im sorry it’s gonna be sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-06-20 10:52:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 31
Words: 4,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15532656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weddersins/pseuds/Weddersins
Summary: The wonderful @Bensoloscalligraphyset (@benscalligraphy on Twitter) posted a challenge for Angst August with daily prompts.So, as a lover of good angst, I decided to jump in.I’m planning on a series of 100-word drabbles following her prompts during the month of August. We’ll see how well I keep up.This is gonna be sad, but I’ll try not to make it too sad.





	1. Sacrifice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sac·ri·fice  
> /ˈsakrəˌfīs/  
> verb: to suffer loss of, give up, renounce, injure, or destroy especially for an ideal, belief, or end.

She’s still.

The tiny wrinkle lines around her mouth are slack.

She feels heavy; so much heavier than he remembered.

Her hands are cold.

His fingers would leave bruises on her shoulders, digging into her soft skin through her tunic - too thin, not enough protection, should have, could have _why Rey -_

He calls for her. She is silent.

Hazel eyes still stare skyward, always looking to the stars. He kisses the soft skin at their corners, tasting copper and salt.

_I wasn’t worth it._

The empty space where her heartbeat belonged was nothing but a dull roar in his ears.


	2. Deny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> deny  
> \ di-ˈnī , dē- \  
> verb: to refuse to accept the existence, truth, or validity of

Chewbacca always knew more than he let on. Intuition came easy when most of the people he lived alongside couldn't communicate properly. Silly furless ones and their lack of Speech.

And so, it did not surprise him that he knew what Rey wasn't admitting to herself.

"No, Chewie, I don't  _care for_  Kylo Ren." She glowered from her position on the floor, a fistful of wiring held tightly.

"Chewie… no, I don't.” A week later, during dinner with the others.

“Chewie.” An irritated stare as she replaced the compressor panel two days later.

But Chewie knew. Someday, Rey would too.


	3. Ghost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ghost  
> \ ˈgōst \  
> noun: a disembodied soul; especially : the soul of a dead person believed to be an inhabitant of the unseen world or to appear to the living in bodily likeness

Ben had seen many terrible and wonderful things as a ghost, but the black-haired boy who shared his name was the pinnacle of them both. Ben had helplessly watched the boy with his innocent dreams of being a pilot devolve into a haunted man; crying out at night for his fallen grandfather’s guidance, slipping into the Darkness. Tortured, manipulated, misused, _alone_.

The path he was on seemed set in stone.

But from above, Ben could see the cracks where the Light was wriggling its way in.

Even as Han took his place beside him, Ben still allowed himself to hope.


	4. Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> blood  
> \ ˈbləd \  
> noun: (2) : the shedding of blood; also, the taking of life

His hands are always covered in blood, no matter how much he washes the pale skin. Time and again he scrubs them raw, his own blood mixing with that of the lives he’s taken. The innocent ones, and the guilty. Self-defense and patricide.

The reminders of his sins linger.

He hides the shame with gloves he never removes. He touches everything through prison walls made of leather, but physical contact mattered little to him.

Until now. Until her.

Even so, he hesitates.

Could she even see the marks of his guilt? Both of their hands are red in the firelight.


	5. Funeral

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> funeral  
> / fu·ner·al /  
> noun: a ceremony or service held shortly after a person's death

He had missed his mother’s funeral. 

Of course, he’d missed his father’s too, but Kylo didn’t want to dwell on that fact.

She would have liked the memorial stone, he thought. She probably would have thought the statue was a bit much. But perhaps not. He didn’t really know her anymore.

He wanted to place his hand on the cold stone, but knew it was a useless gesture.

Even now, at the end, he wasn’t truly there. He was tethered with an invisible leash to the girl with the tearstained face; a ghostly presence as she watched the sunrise alone.


	6. Pietà

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pietà  
> /ˌpēāˈtä/  
> noun: a representation of the Virgin Mary mourning over the dead body of Christ; Italian: literally, pity

Leia was holding her little boy in her arms. His eyes were closed, his face still and calm. She remembered so many times when they had held a similar pose, little Ben suffering another evening filled with nightmares. If she had paid attention then - if she had watched him more closely -

If, if, _if_.

Perhaps the weight in her arms now would be a wiggly grandchild, and not her son's body.

The galaxy was safe, but the cost was astronomical. Leia wept, clinging to the cold comfort that in the end, when it truly mattered, Ben Solo had been good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for this one, I made my own self sad this time.


	7. Yearn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yearn  
> \ ˈyərn \  
> verb: (1) to long persistently, wistfully, or sadly; (2) to feel tenderness or compassion

Rey longed to stay.

But the Force ran up her back; down her arms. It was whispering for her to leave. She couldn't help him, not right now - but she could still help her friends.

So she knelt to the floor, returning his lightsaber to its place. He had to be able to protect himself;  _come back, come back, Ben -_

Her stomach screamed at her _no, stop - don't -_ as she touched the dark hair on his cheek, fingers softer than a kiss.

And then she stood.

For the first time in her life, Rey was the one who ran away.


	8. Fate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fate  
> \ ˈfāt \  
> noun: the will or principle or determining cause by which things in general are believed to come to be as they are or events to happen as they do; destiny

"What girl?" He asked unnecessarily.

He already knew. The girl that had been haunting him throughout his entire life, a mysterious shadow of the Force. Tantalizingly close, and always just beyond his reach.

He pushed past Mitaka, still coughing after the grip he had exerted on this throat - _monster, control yourself_ \- and stomped off to think.

The girl was the key. The Force kept pulling them together - no matter how far he ran, she would dog his steps.

The Force roared in his ears, urging him on.

He would find her, and she would join him. It was their destiny.


	9. Tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tears  
> \ ˈtir \  
> noun: (plural) an act of weeping or grieving

The moment she was by herself, the tears started falling. Cradling the broken pieces of the lightsaber against her chest, Rey curled herself into a ball in the tiny space between the shipping crates. A draft of air stung the fresh wound on her shoulder. The cold deck of the Falcon cradled her, the noise of the ship thrumming around her became a soothing lullaby.

Han was gone.

Luke was gone.

Was Ben gone, too?

She had been wrong - after the cave, in the dark of her hut, before everything had fallen apart.

_Now_ , she had never felt more alone.


	10. Brood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> brood  
> \ ˈbrüd \  
> verb: to think anxiously or gloomily about; ponder

He was alone, sitting under the edge of the overhang. Anxious fingers plucked the already-unwoven hem of his sleeve, seeking a thread and unwinding it from it's peers.

The twin suns were setting in the background, sinking below the horizon and coloring the sky blood-red.

"Thought I'd find you here." A hand on his own stilled his uneasy movements.

He shook his head. The voices inside were raucous and joyful, and he did not belong.

She settled in, leaning her head against his shoulder. "It's alright. They can wait."

Silently, they watched the fiery sky fade to sleepy ocean blue.


	11. Missing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> missing  
> \ ˈmi-siŋ \  
> adjective: absent, or lost.

It was hard to miss Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader of the First Order, as he stalked dangerously across the battlefield. He was black-cloaked drama, anger personified.

Ensconced in their hidey-hole, Rey was the only one among them with a clear shot.

“Do it, Rey.” Poe’s dark whisper.

She waited, watching Kylo’s face for what she knew was still there; what she was simply missing.

“Rey!” Poe’s anxious growl prompted her to level the blaster at Kylo’s chest.

He saw her. 

She _saw_.

He faltered.

Poe didn’t.

Rey jerked her blaster back too late, the stolen shot reverberating in their ears.


	12. Window

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> window  
> \ ˈwin-(ˌ)dō \  
> Noun: : a means of entrance or access; especially : a means of obtaining information

She was well. She had friends. She was safe.

He was grateful for the continuation of their Bond after Crait. He was grateful for these windows into her life, until they became too much.

She appeared beside him in the dark, sound asleep. He jolted awake, throwing himself from the bed. He couldn’t touch her - she didn’t want him to touch her. _Monster, Murderer._.

He watched her sleep from across the room, paralyzed with fear. Half the night later she stirred, arm reaching across the bed. Caught in her dream, she called his true name.

He hung his head, ashamed.


	13. Nostalgia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nostalgia  
> \nä-ˈstal-jə\  
> noun: homesickness

The Bond opened to Rey in the Falcon’s cockpit, curled in a ball fast asleep and all alone. Her appearance always staggered him, but the sight of her in his father’s chair was a blow to his gut.

In that chair, his father had held him tight as the stars blurred to streaks before his eyes. Had taken him off-planet for the first time.

In that chair, his father had taught him to fly.

From that chair, his father left safety to look for _him_.

He had found only death.

Rey and the ship faded away, leaving him mercifully alone.


	14. Love Letters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love letter  
> Noun: a letter expressing a lover’s affection

She found the notes in the strangest places - the wrappings on her saber-staff, tucked under the soles of her cast-off boots, scribbled irreverently in the margins of the ancient texts.

They were always a variation on the same theme - soulful regret, and endless longing.

Always, she read the notes twice - once for herself, and once for her memory - before tucking them safely away.

Sometimes in the winds of Ahch-To, where the barriers between the Force and the galaxy were thinner, she imagined she could see a blue-tinted figure. Never approaching, always a pace away. Keeping the peace, biding his time.


	15. Might-Have-Been

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> might-have-been  
>  \ ˈmītə(v)ˌbin , -ītə- \  
> noun: a past possibility that no longer applies

If only he had done better, things may have been different.

If he had been more present.

If he had been more understanding.

Maybe if he had loved Ben _better_ , this wouldn’t have happened.

But it was too late for regrets and might-have-beens. Too late by far for self-flagellation and recrimination and heavy day drinking, but he was doing them all regardless.

His son was gone.

His son was gone, and he had taken others along with him.

His wife was gone. Now his brother was gone, too.

Han was alone. But there was no one to blame but himself.


	16. Ashes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ashes  
> noun: something that symbolizes grief, repentance, or humiliation

If only he had done better, things would have been different.

If he had been less antagonistic.

If he had been less afraid.

Maybe if he had controlled himself _better_ , this wouldn’t have happened.

But Ben was gone, leaving ash in his wake. His life’s abmition was in flames, and Luke was still burning.

Everything he had worked for was lost.

And surely, Leia would never forgive him for Ben’s descent into darkness. He could never face her or Han again.

His family was lost.

He was lost.

Luke was alone. But he had no one to blame but himself.


	17. Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dream  
> \ ˈdrēm \  
> noun: a series of thoughts, images, or emotions occurring during sleep; a strongly desired goal or purpose

  
It was a well-worn dream, the edges gone fuzzy and blurred. He conjured it as often as he could, the beginnings of it stealing into precious hours of borrowed sleep.

It was a simple premise - an acceptance, instead of a rejection. This one action, one instance of iron will bending into a compromise, lead to a galaxy at peace, grateful for rest after decades of war.

It was all he ever wanted.

But when he awoke he was always alone, still trapped in a war he no longer believed in and filled with regret.

He could have gone with her.


	18. Statuary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> statuary  
> \ ˈsta-chə-ˌwer-ē \  
> noun: a three-dimensional representation usually of a person, animal, or mythical being

Rey found herself at the base of an immense statue, cloaked in darkness. She often wandered here, stopping for a moment and leaning against the wide stone base as if to catch her breath.

Truthfully, every pause was deliberate.

Each time she spoke the same murmured words; nothings really, sentiment lost to the night.

She would run a hand along the stone before resuming her trek, fading into the background before any notice could be taken of her.

Their sides had been chosen over a decade ago. Rey wondered if he still struggled as she did, between duty and desire. 


	19. Haunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haunt  
> \ ˈhȯnt , ˈhänt \  
> verb: to stay around or persist

She wakes in a cold sweat every night. What-ifs, maybes, and might-have-beens circle her brain like predators, all sharp teeth and cold eyes.

Shaking, she reaches - but her hands and mind meet the same dark emptiness each time.

But still, she sees him everywhere - in the shadow of his mother’s eyes, a set of footfalls half a beat from her own, the blue streaks of stars in hyperspace.

But these ghosts are nothing compared to the times she truly _saw_  him.

She is haunted by a man who isn’t even dead.

She is haunted by her failure to reach him.


	20. Golden Moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Golden Moment  
> noun: a perfect instance

Ben’s Golden Moment was simple.

No matter how old he became, or how far into darkness he propelled himself, he would always remember the first stirrings of their link.

She had called to him from the start, fire and passion and the spark of life burning through her in that forest; _no, I won’t give into you!_ She’d screamed into the ether.

And when he had stilled her, and in the silence he could _feel_ her -

That’s when he knew. She was different. She was who he had been waiting for.

But he had not been ready - not for her.


	21. Embrace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> embrace  
> \ im-ˈbrās \  
> verb: to clasp in arms

He had lived to a grand old age, despite everything. And when he died, there were people beside him - his wife, the Light of his life. His children, a legacy.

It was so far beyond anything he had ever imagined.

He was a son of darkness - his end had been destined to be painful, to be empty - to be alone.

But as he left his wife’s embrace in death, he fell into another.

A scent from memory, a creak of leather; two sets of familiar arms.

_My boy - my son - you’re home. We’ve been waiting for you. We’ve missed you._


	22. Mourn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mourn  
> \ ˈmȯrn \  
> verb: to feel or express grief and sorrow

It’s a strange thing to mourn someone you barely knew.

But she was one of three who had known Luke even a small bit, and when Leia had been in her cups that evening and wanted to talk, well - at least Rey’s responses weren't limited to the glutteral growls of Shyriiwook.

So she’d listened, offering an occasional nod as Leia reminisced.

After two drinks of her own, she felt brave enough to recount the thala-siren.

Grief is a strange thing; an echo-chamber turning laughter into tears without permission. Both women stared at blurry stars; unsure whose break had been first.


	23. Wreath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wreath  
> \ ˈrēth \  
> noun: a decorative arrangement of foliage or flowers

Her head is wreathed in flowers, and Ben is sure that he’s never seen anything more beautiful than the white blooms buried in umber-colored curls.

He reaches out with a chubby hand, fingers grasping a dark ringlet and pulling it down.

She laughs, gathering him into her arms and allowing him to bury his face in her hair.

Ben grows tired again, his bad dream chased away by the calm lady with eyes like starlight. His tired fingers play with a white chip that hangs from her neck, and soft hums of a half-remembered song soothe him back to sleep.


	24. Disaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disaster  
> \di-ˈzas-tər\  
> noun: a sudden or great misfortune or failure

The base is burning.

The base is burning, she’s choking with smoke _\- there’s Finn; Rose - where was Poe? Poe -_

Her eyes are stinging, her lungs struggling for air, each breath acrid and thick and _burning_ ;

_Poe is here; where’s Chewie?_

A whole wall crumples on her right, flames roaring outward as the room spins - 

She drags herself up; _Chewie, where -_

A fireball above her, she flattens to the floor.

Chewie roars to her right, and she lurches - 

_Get out, get -_ the words die in her burning throat.

Another crash, a burst of flame - her world explodes to red and black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more on this for tomorrow because: pain.


	25. Howl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> howl  
> \ ˈhau̇(-ə)l \  
> verb: to utter with unrestrained outcry

The scorching pain that flares to life on Kylo’s back is enough to bring him to his knees.

The shower’s heat only intensifies the agony, and a desperate frigid blast brings no relief. Staggering out, he lurches across ‘fresher to brace himself against the sink.

He dips his shoulder to the mirror, the inspection proving that the skin on his back was unmarred, only pinkend by the shower’s heat.

As suddenly as it came, the pain vanishes. Silence roars in Kylo’s head, where surely _something_ had once lived.

Recognition dawns as the blankness rises. An anguished howl rebounds into emptiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a follow-up to the 24th’s prompt. Sorry...


	26. Message

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> message  
>  \ ˈme-sij \  
> noun: a communication in writing, by speech, or by signals

The little green message light was blinking.

It had been blinking for hours, and Rey was perfectly content to let it keep going.

The secure line was only coded to one person, and Rey had absolutely no desire to speak with them this moment.

Or perhaps ever.

She snuggled back into the warm arms that held her. A large nose nuzzled into her hair, and her name was rumbled muzzily against her neck.

She turned to kiss the deep line of the scar bisecting his cheek, assuring him he could stay asleep.

She would let the Resistance wait, this time. 


	27. Heartbreak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heartbreak  
>  \ ˈhärt-ˌbrāk \  
> noun: crushing grief, anguish, or distress

_Control yourself._

_You are better than this._

A well of agony that long ago should have run dry awakens, forming a stabbing interruption in the dull ache of emptiness. The hollow echo reverberates where a beating heart had once been.

It’s a gnawing sort of grief, heartbreak. It sneaks up silently, creeping in to steal away another piece of meaning.

_Control yourself_ , it whispers; ever a finger-length away.

A deep shuddering breath in. A strangled gasp, nails biting into a palm in consternation.

Across the stars two hearts beat in the same broken rhythm, a half-step off from the other.

 


	28. Freeform

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so Tammy's prompts skipped the 28th, so today is a free day and I've been listening to too much Hamilton.

_"Dying is easy, young man; living is harder."_

He's swimming back to the present, his memories growing grayer with each breath he drags in. But this sentence, uttered in graveyard tones by his uncle nigh-on decades ago - that sentence remains.

True consciousness eludes him, and even the agony from the hole in his chest has dulled to a mere throb. Now, it was just a reminder that he lay dying.

The small hands on his chest, the tears falling on his face - those are reminders that life is hard, but it was sweet.

Luke had been wrong. Dying was harder.


	29. Ocean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ocean  
> \ ˈō-shən \  
> noun: the whole body of salt water that covers nearly three fourths of the surface of the earth; a very large or unlimited space or quantity

The ocean roars in her ears, but Rey is no longer afraid of it's deep growl. She stands on the edge of a great hole in the earth, and the ancient darkness it holds scares her far more than the foreign noises of the waves.

Inside lay the answers she's sought. All she has to do is reach out and _grasp_.

But the pebbles beneath her boots slough down into the roiling waves, and she's full of doubt.

She pushes away the thought that perhaps now would be a good time for _him_ to materialize from the ether, after all.


	30. Grasp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> grasp  
>  \ˈgrasp \  
> verb: to lay hold of within the mind

The instant he was told of the girl, Kylo began to stray from his master.

He had compassion for her. Compassion had turned to understanding, then a desire to belong.

When she'd arrived at his feet in that tiny coffin, fear and uncertainty had warred with the imperative to be understood. And then, watching pain fill her eyes turned that feeling into an inescapable directive to _protect_. It gave him everything he needed to break free.

When the blue blade buried itself Snoke's hollow chest it broke his chains; the cold fingers of his master loosing their grasp at last. 


	31. Better Than Nothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the prompt for the 31st was to visit our favorite one from the past month. Instead, I present to you the alternate ending of Behemoth - it was quite nearly how we ended up. I don't think you strictly need to have read that entire monster in order to understand this, but it surely doesn't hurt.

Armitage Hux was far too old for this shit.

He stepped down from the landing ramp unsteadily, his knees protesting only a bit less than his back. With a barely-suppressed groan, he surveyed the hellish landscape before him. It’s jagged rocks and steep hills taunted his infirmity, and it was rapidly putting him in a sour mood.

It would probably be prudent to simply send the stormtroopers who accompanied him ahead, but Hux couldn’t bring himself to do it. If anyone was going to get to fuss at Kylo Ren, Emperor of the Galaxy and First of His Name, it should be him.

So with a grunt he heaved himself up the rocky stairs, the men in white armor obediently falling in line behind him. The little cluster of huts at the top called to him, and Hux wondered for the thousandth time why in the hell Ren had insisted on living on Ahch-To. Literally any other planet in the galaxy would have been a more practical choice.

A seabird squalled overhead, and a rush of wind blew the grasses nearly flat with its passing. It stumbled Hux only a bit, blowing his snow-white hair up from his wrinkled forehead.

_Maker take this island._

He’d been on it for less than five minutes, and he already hated the fish-stink and the cold breeze. He forced himself to continue moving, hoping the exercise would warm his quickly stiffening joints. As he climbed the winding, worn-down stairs, his mind wandered down the pathways of the last fifty-odd years.

And they had indeed been odd.

After the loss of Rey in that final pitched battle, Ren had thrown himself body and soul into the role of Emperor. And Hux had to admit that he had been successful. He was beloved, a thing never before said about the cantankerous Master of the Knights of Ren. His reforms had bettered the lives of billions across the galaxy - slavery had been eradicated, hunger diminished, and education reforms meant a greater literacy rate than had been achieved in decades.

There hadn’t been a war worth noting in thirty-six years.

The man Hux had been fifty years ago would have found it horribly boring. The man he was now was inexplicably grateful to the shadow of a dead woman.

Both through possessing her and in losing her, Rey had bettered Kylo Ren.

She had softened the angry husk of a person Kylo Ren had once been, breathing life back into his hollow heart. Her loss had shown the galaxy that the man was irrevocably human behind the mask he had been known for. Her loss had spurred Kylo to push forward on reforms Hux himself had deemed far too radical. But the galaxy had embraced them readily, perhaps simply eager to be at peace after decades of war. Whatever the reason, it had worked.

It had been boring for years now. Thank the Maker for trade disputes to keep him busy. Even so, Hux had found the pure fire of war had left his belly long ago.

His place was behind a desk now, not at the head of an army.

And certainly not marching up rock stairs in search of a tardy Kylo Ren, Emperor or not. In nearly forty-six years of living on this backwater half-hidden planet, Ren had never once failed to check in, had never once missed an interview or a state dinner or anything even remotely resembling an official duty. It simply hadn’t happened.

That was, until last week.

As Hux reached the top of the hill, the cold weight of concern pressed itself into his stomach again. He pushed it away angrily. Ren was being a stubborn git - it was his base personality; no amount of time could erase that tenet.

But none of the small stone huts held an inner light, despite dusk rapidly falling on the planet.

“Spread out - check each one of those buildings.” He waved the men behind him on with a gnarled hand. Hux wasn’t fond of the tiny wheeze that had snuck into his voice, but if the troopers noticed anything amiss they wisely did not say.

White-armored bodies clacked away into the huts, and Hux strode with considerably less aplomb than usual into the nearest one.

He stopped dead in the entryway, surveying the modest furnishings with a practiced eye. Strange - he’d heard Ren say on more than one occasion that the only other inhabits of this island were the indigenous peoples who lived far apace from him, but there were clearly the markings of two people dwelling alongside each other in this room.

He took an uncertain step in, half expecting someone to leap out at him. The room felt occupied, even though there was clearly no one inside but himself.

A small table with two rickety chairs. Two cups, two plates, several bowls and various other cookery sitting on a small shelf. A fire pit with a cooking spit overtop, ash long since gone cold. A bed lurked in the far corner, on the smaller side but easily large enough for two bodies huddled together.

It was the roughhewn desk with the calligraphy set that gave him pause, however. This _must_ be Ren’s space - he was the only person Hux had ever known that was able to handwrite anything. It was a curious hobby - one unique to Ren.

He turned on his heel, ready to call over the stormtroopers, when he noticed the crumpled pile of empty black robes by the lone window.

They were clearly far finer than anything in this room. Taking a single step towards them, Hux gently toed the bundle of clothes till it disgorged the one marker he could never deny - the ugly black hilt of that twisted lightsaber that had only been worn as a reminder of times past.

Hux stared down at the crumpled bit of fabric as a niggling corner of his brain reminded him of something Ren had said long ago, about joining with the Force. About why they had never found anything of Rey to bury.

The reality that the Emperor was dead nearly staggered him backwards, unprepared as he was for what would surely come. What the galaxy would go through.

What _he_ would go through.

Against every wish he had ever possessed, Kylo Ren had been a constant presence in his life for nearly sixty years. The thought of him being gone was...

“A tear, General Hux? Surely not.”

With a start, he looked up from the black fabric at his feet to behold the ghostly blue figure of Rey.

“It’s Admiral now, you know.” It was the first thing his addled brain spat out as he looked on the girl, three buns back in her hair and wearing the clothes he had last seen her in the day she ran from the Supremacy, so long ago now. She hadn’t changed at all.

The ghost laughed. “I did. He told me. But... he’s gone now... do you understand?” Her tone was oddly gentle, and Hux found himself gawping at the twenty-year-old woman who had inexplicably blown in from his past.

“Yes. I understand. Is he... with you?”

“More or less.” She looked wistfully around the room, eyes lingering for a moment on the bed before returning to Hux’s face. “I guess the secret’s out now. The Emperor spent his free time keeping a ghost company. I wonder what the galaxy will make of that?” An upward quirk of an eyebrow punctuated her words.

“Don't waste your time wondering, I wont be saying anything.” Not only for their sake - it would be far too hard to explain. Hux cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Can I speak with him?”

“No.” Rey’s tone was regretful. “But he wanted me to tell you that he’s sorry. And to thank you.”

Hux found he had no reply for that; only a shallow dip of his now-hoary head. “How...”

A laugh. “He figured you’d ask that. This island is steeped in ancient Force - the boundaries are thinner here.” As if to illustrate her point, Rey stepped forward and lifted a stray blade of grass from the arm of Hux’s jacket.

He was quite afraid his jaw fell open as she did so. She smiled disarmingly. “Being here was better than nothing. Better than waiting.”

“What happens now?”

“Oh, you know.” A wistful smile again. “We go on. So do you. You’ve still got some mop-up to do. Ben told me to remind you of Article Twenty-Nine of-“

“Maker, yes, I know. Kriff, even in death he still manages to annoy me.” He ran a hand through his hair, displacing the immaculately placed strands more than the wind howling in the empty room had already done.

“I like the white hair. It suits you.” Rey laughed, and it was as bright as Hux had ever remembered it. Somehow, it pained him.

“It would have suited you, too.” Where had that come from? He was maudlin in his old age.

Rey smiled softly. “Life happens as it ought to.”

“Perhaps.” Hux had never been certain of fate. But there were surely mysteries beyond his reckoning – and one of them was standing here before him, now.

Rey closed her eyes, breathing out a deep sigh before looking back up at him. “I am afraid that this is where I leave you, Armitage. Goodbye, old friend.” Her body was shimmering in the dying light of the day.

Hux boggled. “Old friend? That’s not entirely how I recall it.”

“Time has a way of changing one’s perspective.” Rey shrugged her shoulders, mouth curled into a teasing smirk. The edges of her body continued to blur into the background.

Then she was gone, and Hux was alone.

He stooped to grab the lightsaber hilt with shaking fingers, bringing it closer to his body as he stepped out of the hut.

The squadron had assembled outside the stone wall, having completed their search of the other rooms and finding nothing of importance.

Hux held out the hilt by way of explanation, saying the only thing he could think of after the revelation in that small stone room.

“The Emperor is dead. Long live the Emperor.”


End file.
